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Memoirs of a White Elephant

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<h5>CHAPTER XVI</h5> <h4>FINE CLOTHES</h4> Alas! Parvati was growing up. She was as beautiful as the Sun, and as pretty as the Moon; but she was no longer the playful child who cared for nothing so much as to be with me. She was now a real Princess, and her mother instructed her in all the rules of etiquette and the ceremonies of the Court. Her toilet occupied her a great deal—she, who till now had thought nothing of tearing her tunics on any bramble! As I was privileged in every way and allowed to do as I pleased, I rarely left the neighbourhood of the pavilion in which she lived, and almost always contrived to keep my Princess in sight, through one or the other of the large windows, or else on the verandahs embowered in flowers. It chanced very often in this way that I was permitted to watch-the labours of the dressing-maids (though I could not see why they took so much trouble to embellish a beauty which was already so perfect). The slaves would bring water from the Ganges, in which they bathed Parvati; they showered her with "santal," and powdered her with safran, which gave her the appearance of a golden statue. Then they threw over her a "sari" (which is a thin garment, as light as a mist), and she sat down cross-legged on a purple velvet cushion. Then the hairdressers came forward; and her hair, which was as dark and shining as a river of night, was divided into two portions and combed, and perfumed, and ornamented with pearls and jasmine flowers. Next they stained the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet a beautiful reddish orange-colour with "mendhi"; she nibbled a bit of "betel" to darken the colour of her gums; her long eyes and thick eyebrows were blackened with "surmeh," and her rosy lips were tinted blue with "missi"; on her ankles were fastened little bells attached to golden rings; a golden girdle encircled her waist, and they loaded her neck and arms with necklaces and bracelets. Arrayed in this way I could hardly recognize her; she seemed so majestic, so dignified—so different from herself, that it saddened me a little with the feeling that she was growing away from me. And now when we went out she was no longer reclining in the basket against my heart; she was mounted on my back, installed in a sumptuous "howdah" with double bell-towers of gold and curtains of pale green silk. Still she would not permit a servant to accompany us, nor any of her suite. Freedom, and my companionship were still what she liked best. "Do you know, Iravata," said she, "when my slight form is carried by your colossal strength, I feel as if I were a Goddess! I feel inaccessible, like the blue God Vichnu, and invincible, like the hero Rama! I seem made so great by thy power, and devotion, and courage, that my pride is exalted, and I feel as if on a throne—like the primitive Lotus that supports Brahmah. But when I dismount how humiliated I feel at being only a poor little princess, obliged to walk on the ground!" On hearing this I was so pleased that I had to shuffle my feet, flap my ears, and utter little grunts of satisfaction! We no longer strolled about the city, frequenting the public places, and the fountains, as in the old times. I promenaded the streets with a solemn dignified step; but, once outside of the city gates, I quickened my pace and sought the Forest. <hr class="chap" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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